


The Imposter

by SereGlavenus



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, sad :(
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:54:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23636386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SereGlavenus/pseuds/SereGlavenus
Summary: A Pokémon without an identity of their own sees a glimmer of hope, but their lack of talent in the one thing they were meant to be good at becomes a huge problem.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	The Imposter

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this over a year ago, but thought it was finally worth showing to the world after rediscovering it again recently. Make what you'd like of it, I guess :P

There was never a day that passed without the same disappointing cycle.

It was a familiar type of morning. There was not much of interest about it: the sun shone brightly as always, but it wasn't particularly warm, and the distant cries of Pokémon kept things from being too quiet. One lonesome creature, named Charlie, was meandering through the grass, their only concrete thought of berries for breakfast: perhaps there would be a nice, juicy Oran berry for them to have, although any kind would do. They were soon interrupted from their thought, though, as they looked up to a berry tree and noticed something a little different.

In the tree was a Fletchling, happily pecking away at every berry it could see. Berries of strange shape? Berries that were hardly grown? This Fletchling was eating all of them regardless. Usually, even flying Pokémon would wait for a berry to fall onto the ground, but evidently this one wasn't stopping for anything... keeping them all to itself. Somehow, though, despite even the oran berries being gobbled without a second thought, the wandering Pokémon admired that Fletchling. It admired the free nature it seemed to have. Its feathers looked so soft, its chirp so cheerful, and the little hops it performed from branch to branch looked like so much fun! Soon enough, Charlie felt their form begin to change... and now they were a Fletchling too.

Feeling the change, the new Fletchling looked down at their feet and saw two sets of toes, then stretched its fresh pair of wings and felt a sense of completeness wash over them. Were they still Charlie? If you were to ask them, they wouldn't be able to answer, but they wouldn't really care, either. With the same hope that other Fletchling seemed to have, Charlie took to the skies and felt the wind in their new feathers, the freedom in the air, and sunshine that finally felt like a blessing that the day would be filled with joy.

Then they crashed to the ground.

Charlie scrambled to their feet, their chirps now with dismay instead of happiness. They ran back towards where the tree with that inspiring little bird must have been, fighting the pain that pulsed through them with each step, their feet beginning to squish beneath them and slowing more and more. They caught sight of the berry tree and felt hopeful for a moment, but their form was collapsing... and the tree was empty. The colourful variety of berries had all been eaten and the Fletchling had clearly moved on. Without the role model they had, Charlie was a Fletchling no more, and had turned back into a squishy, formless goop. A "Ditto".

How Charlie hated that name. They might as well not be anything. The name in itself was a play on the fact that a Ditto can only copy others, and although they were considered their own Pokémon it didn't really feel like it. The few other Ditto felt so comfortable with themselves, and they were happy to abuse their special power and then throw away a form they'd found mere minutes ago. Charlie could hardly hold them for one minute, yet Charlie was also the only one that seemed to want to keep them. 

They didn't like to think about it, but even the transformations themselves were flawed. Every time Charlie saw they had a new pair of feet, they tried to ignore that some parts were stuck together, or that they had slightly more blobbish features than they should. It was doubtless that there were more noticeable issues that other Pokémon would be able to see, even if Charlie would refuse to admit that to anyone. 

So the cycle continues, a cold emptiness left on them, a lonely and formless Pokémon. No, not a real Pokémon- a thing that didn't deserve to be a Pokémon, and that thing didn't want breakfast anymore. It just wanted to feel that exhilerating freedom it knew it could never keep.


End file.
